


Strumming

by soul_writerr



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Playing instruments, Rafael sings, Sonny plays the guitar, Trixie is a good dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_writerr/pseuds/soul_writerr
Summary: And just like that Rafael felt the annoyance leave him, suddenly accosted by how absurdly attractive this man was. Rafael had been so invested in his work - rightful so, it was a gruesome one - that apparently he’d forgotten about his crush on his charming neighbor.Sonny frowned slightly as he stood there, unmoving and quiet. “Is everything okay?”“I thought I heard a noise,” he started, then saw the guitar Sonny was holding by his side.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 99
Collections: April 2020 Barisi Bingo





	Strumming

**Author's Note:**

> My third entry to the Barisi Bingo!!! This one took a while, but here it is.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Rafael threw his pen on top of his legal pad and stood up, seething. He walked out of his home office with sure steps, stopping only to put on some shoes. He wrenched his front door open and marched to his next door neighbor. 

He banged on said door repeatedly, fists closed tightly. The strumming stopped at once, and Rafael heard loud barking and a muffled curse. He huffed, then banged on the door a couple more times.

This was unacceptable; he was trying to work and this annoying guitar plucking was ruining what was supposed to be a productive night.

When the door opened, his neighbor looked downright pissed at first, but then his face broke into a beaming brighter-than-the-sun smile. “Hey, Counselor,” he said, all enthusiastic.

And just like that Rafael felt the annoyance leave him, suddenly accosted by how absurdly  _ attractive  _ this man was. Rafael had been so invested in his work - rightful so, it was a gruesome one - that apparently he’d forgotten about his crush on his charming neighbor.

Sonny frowned slightly as he stood there, unmoving and quiet. “Is everything okay?”

“I thought I heard a noise,” he started, then saw the guitar Sonny was holding by his side.

“What noise?”

“A banging,” Rafael lied. “Outside my window.”

Sonny’s frown deepened, and he reached out to pull Rafael by the arm. “Hey, come here,” he said softly, pulling Rafael into the apartment and closing the door behind him. He sat his guitar up against it, and that free hand went to Rafael’s shoulder and squeezed. “You want me to check that out for you?”

Rafael felt his eyes going huge, but he’d have to play along with his own lie now, so he nodded. Sonny squeezed his shoulder again, then pulled him further in. 

He saw Sonny’s dog sitting up on the couch, attentive. She was a beautiful Golden Retriever called Trixie (full name Beatrice, Trix for short), and at the sight of Rafael she jumped off and trotted over to him, tail wagging in the air. 

Sonny guided Rafael to the now vacant couch, Trixie by his feet. 

“You wait here, I’ll be right back,” Sonny said, all cool and controlled. “Stay, Trix.”

He disappeared somewhere deep into the apartment, and Trixie stood proudly by Rafael’s feet, looking up at him with huge brown eyes.

“What am I doing here?,” he whispered to her, and her tongue lolled out. She looked like she was smiling at him.

Sonny came back out a moment later, gun in hand, looking like a man on a mission. 

“You have your phone?,” he asked. Rafael nodded. “Don’t hesitate to call 911 if needed.”

With that, he left and went into Rafael’s apartment. He sat there, questioning his life choices and just what happened to his brain whenever he was faced with blue eyes, deep dimples and long legs. 

A few long minutes passed. There was no noise coming from his apartment, but he knew Sonny was checking every window and locking everything up as he went. There was no threat, Rafael knew, but Sonny was thorough and competent to a fault, and he wasn’t about to tell a cop how to do his job. 

Rafael remembered when he first moved in and met Sonny by the elevator. He’d immediately offered to help and ended up carrying more boxes than Rafael himself. Later that same day, he’d knocked on Rafael’s door with a tupperware full of pasta bolognese, looking chipper. 

“I know your kitchenware is all boxed up,” Sonny said, and handed him the tupperware and a fork. 

“I know where the wine glasses are,” Rafael offered. “ _ And _ the wine.” 

They’d shared said pasta and said wine, and Rafael found out that same day that Sonny was a Detective with the 99th precinct in Brooklyn, and his whole face lit up when Rafael told him he was an ADA for Brooklyn’s SVU. 

“I’m on my first year of Law School,” he had announced proudly, and Rafael was immediately smitten. He was gorgeous, he could cook a mean bolognese,  _ and  _ he was smart. 

Now, apparently, he could play the guitar, too.

Rafael was done, over, signed, sealed, and delivered.

Sonny came back looking a little sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead. Despite looking like he’d just fought someone (and won), he shook his head. “It’s all clear.”

Rafael let out a loud breath for effect. “I think it’s just this case getting in my head,” he said and stood up. “Anyway, thank you, and I’m sorry to bother you.”

Sonny waved his free hand at him. “You wanna talk about it?”

Rafael hesitated. He really did have to work.

“I’ve got fresh brownies,” Sonny said knowingly. Rafael had never refused his baking.

“Alright,” he chuckled, petting Trixie on the head as she continued smiling up at him.

* * *

Rafael’s head was about to explode. The pain was shooting up and down, knocking at his forehead like a sledgehammer, only getting worse as the strumming got louder and louder from his neighbor’s apartment.

He dragged himself off his couch and walked out slowly, ringing Sonny’s doorbell and immediately regretting it at the shrill noise it produced. He winced, pressing two fingers against his temple and closing his eyes tightly together.

“Whoa, Counselor,” came Sonny’s concerned greeting, and he immediately grabbed his shoulder. “You don’t look too good.”

“Headache,” Rafael grunted. “Killing me.”

Rafael forgot that he’d knocked on Sonny’s door to ask him to stop making so much noise, because next thing he knew the Detective had a hand on his forehead, feeling for a fever. His touch was soft, and Rafael leaned into it. 

“Come on,” he said warmly, guiding Rafael back into his own apartment. Trixie whined, upset, when Sonny closed his door and left her inside. 

Sonny knew where his bedroom was, he’d helped bring his matress in that first day, and that was where Rafael found himself next. Sonny laid him down gently, only the street lights coming through his window, and Rafael was glad.

“Have you taken anything?,” Sonny asked softly, crouching down beside the bed to look at him.

Rafael made an affirmative noise. “Five minutes ago.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Be right back.”

Sonny exited the room in light steps, and Rafael closed his eyes once he was gone. He could feel his brain  _ pulsating _ , pushing at his skull, swollen. He knew he was gambling when he’d left the house extra early with nothing but two cups of coffee in his stomach, immediately jumping into meetings and arraignments.

It was already too late when he remembered he had to stop and eat something; he could already feel the tendrils of pressure tugging at his temples then. When he got home, he’d barely managed to fill a glass of water and swallow a pill with how much pain he was in. 

“Hey,” Sonny called, his voice so soft and caring Rafael almost started purring.

Holding on to any dignity he had left, Rafael opened his eyes again, and Sonny had a steaming mug in hand.

“I made some tea, do you think you can sit up?”

With Sonny’s help, Rafael propped a couple pillows up and half-sat, half-lay on them, his head feeling heavy on his shoulders. Sonny carefully placed the mug on his hands, and Rafael took a careful sip. The warmth was comforting, so he sipped again.

He breathed in deeply, the smell of chamomile almost as therapeutic and calming as Sonny’s presence.

Once he had drained his tea, Sonny took away the mug and returned with a damp cloth. He pressed it to Rafael’s forehead and the ADA immediately leaned into the cool touch.

The Detective sat beside him on the bed, and Rafael kept leaning towards him. Rafael closed his eyes, feeling himself fall against Sonny’s hand. 

Any false move would have Rafael tipping sideways and falling out of bed, but Sonny helped Rafael lay back down, pulling the covers on top of him, the cool cloth laid delicately over his forehead.

“Take a nap,” Sonny said. “I’ll make you something to eat. Wake you up in about an hour, okay?”

“Thank you,” Rafael breathed, turned to his side and immediately fell asleep.

* * *

The guitar playing was so, so loud, Rafael couldn’t hear the TV. He let out a long breath, shaking his head. It wasn’t bad at all, and Sonny’s  _ repertoire  _ was quite impressive, but he did have a knack for starting a weird plunking and random strumming at the most inconvenient times. 

Like when Rafael’s perp was on the news talking about being a family man being accused of  _ unspeakable _ things by money-hungry women. 

Muting the TV and rolling his eyes at the perp’s dramatic choice of words once again, Rafael went to knock on his neighbor’s door. This time Rafael  _ was  _ going to talk to him about the noise; Sonny probably had no idea how loud he was being, so Rafael really did have to say something. 

But then Sonny opened the door, and he was smiling at him the way he did, guitar across his body, dark blue apron tied around his narrow waist, and Rafael forgot himself again.  _ Goddamnit. _

“Are you playing guitar  _ and  _ cooking at the same time?,” was what actually came out of Rafael’s mouth. 

Sonny laughed lightly. “Nah, I just put the lasagna in the oven and picked up the guitar to play while I wait.” 

Trixie came trotting out then, tail wagging, looking up between Sonny and Rafael expectantly. Sonny chuckled at her.

“She heard you come home earlier, I had to bribe her away from the door with a treat,” he looked back up at Rafael, and his expression was as expectant as Trixie’s. “You wanna come in? The lasagna should be done in 20 minutes, and I’ve got some wine.”

Rafael almost nodded and stepped in, but held himself back in time. “I actually have to keep an eye on the news. A perp decided to make a show out of my latest case, he’s become proficient at press conferences, apparently.”

This was it, this was his opening to ask Sonny to keep the noise down. 

“I have a TV,” Sonny said before he could, and then Rafael walked back into his apartment only to turn his TV off and grab his files.

Trixie was elated to see him come back, but not more than Sonny.

* * *

Rafael was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn’t even realize just how loudly he was singing.

Sonny had started playing at around 10am, by the window. Rafael could hear him talking softly to Trixie while strumming his guitar until he picked up a familiar tune that had Rafael swaying in place and singing under his breath (at first).

He’d gone from top 40 Pop to some old Country songs and Broadway tunes, then Billy Joel and The Beatles, and Rafael got more and more into it at every change, nodding his approval at Sonny’s choices. 

So now there he was, mini vacuum held like a microphone, singing along to the sound of Sonny’s guitar and vacuuming his sofa and carpet between verses. He was already breaking a sweat, although it was impossible to tell whether it was from cleaning his apartment all morning or his clear investment in his performance.

Rafael was so into it that, when Sonny stopped, he stood there waiting for the next song, and was extremely disappointed when it didn’t come. There was complete silence, and Rafael looked toward the window with a frown.

Maybe he needed a break; it was lunch time after all, and Rafael was almost done with his cleaning. 

If he hadn’t lost track of time with his cleaning (and singing and dancing), Rafael would have invited Sonny over for lunch. The two of them had been spending a lot of their free time together, and the Detective often did the cooking, so Rafael thought he’d cover that for once.

He knew that there was  _ something  _ between them. An interest, a barely concealed attraction, if the excuses they made up to see each other were any indication. Just a couple days before, Sonny had knocked on his door with Trixie on his toe, saying she’d heard Rafael come in and wouldn’t stop whining.

Both the Detective and his (precious) dog had spent the rest of the evening with him - they ordered take out because Rafael wasn’t ready for visitors then. They’d talked about work and Rafael was absolutely taken by Sonny’s enthusiasm about Law practice, they’d talked about their families, and they bonded over food. 

The entire time, Rafael felt  _ it _ , a pull towards the other man, and he believed Sonny felt the same - if only because of the way he had hesitated by Rafael’s threshold when saying goodnight, his eyes bright and yearning. 

It was thrilling, and Rafael couldn’t wait to see who would break first. If Sonny kept flashing those damn gorgeous dimples at Rafael, it’d be him.

_ Damn _ those dimples - just thinking about them coming out every time Sonny smiled made something flutter inside his stomach, and he tsked out loud at his own foolishness. 

Never in his almost 40 years of life had Rafael ever related the word  _ giddy _ to himself this much, but that’s how he felt just by listening to Sonny go about his day on the other side of the thin wall that separated their apartments.

Maybe Rafael could invite him over for dinner tonight, show him the wonders of Cuban cuisine, and maybe that kiss goodnight could happen.

And there it was again, the  _ fluttering _ in Rafael’s stomach. He was screwed.

* * *

That night, when Rafael opened his door to welcome Sonny, his breath caught in his throat. The Detective stood in dark blue jeans and a grey Henley, the unbuttoned collar making his neck look impossibly long. He was holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a tray filled with brownies in the other.

“No Trixie?,” Rafael teased.

Sonny shrugged; Rafael though he would have waved his hand if he had one free. “I made a deal with her and promised I wouldn’t be home late if she behaved like a good girl and stayed quiet.”

“Well, let’s make the most of it before your curfew, then,” he gestured for Sonny to come in, stepping aside. “And you really didn’t have to bring anything.”

“Ma always says to never arrive at anyone’s house empty-handed,” Sonny said as he made his way to the kitchen, as comfortable in Rafael’s space as ever.

Much like Rafael expected, Sonny had immediately offered to bring something when he invited him for dinner. While he’d been adamant that he’d be the one doing the cooking, he had suggested a couple wine choices that would go well with what he was planning for their meal. 

It seemed that the same way Rafael couldn’t resist Sonny’s baking, he couldn’t resist feeding Rafael one way or another. 

What a pair they were.

“In that case I think you owe me about thirty of those,” Rafael called, going after him.

Sonny set both the wine and the brownies on the counter and peaked at the pans at the stove before turning to Rafael again, shooting him a lopsided grin.

“I’ll bake you brownies whenever you want, Raf, you just have to ask,” and there they were, the most perfect dimples Rafael had ever seen. 

Rafael swallowed hard and looked away, making his way around the Detective. “Well, I appreciate your kindness, and for bringing the right wine.”

“You say white, medium-dry, I deliver. What’re we having, then?”

With a smirk, Rafael lifted the lid off the biggest pot and the steam immediately rose up, filling the air with a scent that threw him back to spending summer days with his abuelita; he remembered learning to cook traditional Cuban food, singing her favorite songs, dancing around the living room as they both tried not to think about what Rafael would go home to once fall came.

“Holy shit,” Sonny exclaimed, eyes-wide. “That smells  _ so good _ . I don’t think I’ve ever had Cuban food before.”

Rafael chuckled. “I guessed that.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I have a very well-developed palate,” he said, mock-offended. “Will you teach me some day?”

“Sure, if you want. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, I’ll serve us.”

Sonny shot him another smile, damned dimples and all, and went to sit at the dining table. It was small, only four seats, but Rafael had made an effort to set it nicely for the occasion, with fancy napkins and his nice dinner plates. There weren’t any candles on the table, he’d need space for the dishes, but he’d scattered a few around the apartment to set the  _ mood _ .

Rafael felt Sonny’s eyes on him as he went about serving them and opening the wine bottle, bringing everything to the table with a prickling under his skin that could only be a result of Sonny’s wandering gaze.

“A toast,” Sonny offered, filling their glasses. 

Rafael took a seat across from him. “To what?”

“To you, to this dinner,” he smiled. “And tonight.”

“To tonight,” Rafael smiled back, and they clinked their glass lightly.

Each took a sip, eyes never leaving the other, smiles still pulling at the corner of their lips even as they set their glasses back down.

Rafael watched closely as Sonny filled his first forkful.  _ Ropa Vieja _ was popular enough, but Rafael didn’t cook often. He waited anxiously for Sonny’s reaction and, when it came, he couldn’t help but feel relieved.

“Oh my  _ God _ , Rafael,” Sonny said, falling back into his seat with an amazed expression. “This is delicious.”

“I know,” he replied smugly and took a bite himself, humming his appreciation.

Sonny took another bite and then another, nodding at his plate as if they were in some sort of agreement. Rafael was very amused. 

“Can I say something?,” Sonny asked after a sip of wine. 

Rafael nodded, chewing around a mouthful. 

“You have a beautiful,  _ beautiful  _ singing voice,” Sonny said.

And what horrible timing for him to swallow, because his surprise at those words made him choke so hard the Detective was up and out of his chair in the blink of an eye, ready to perform the Heimlich maneuver and save the day. 

Rafael raised a hand to hold him back, coughing through the tears that were stinging his eyes. “I’m okay,” he said, sounding strangled.

Sonny sat back down, watching him closely. “Are you sure? You look a little red.”

He took a couple sips of wine, then nodded. “I’m fine,” a couple small coughs. “I was just… surprised. I didn’t know you could hear me.”

He smiled softly. “If you can hear me playing the guitar, I can definitely hear you belting out those notes.”

“Jesus,” he hissed, running a hand over his face. 

“Hey, I mean it, you sound really amazing, Raf. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“I’m not ashamed. I just don’t sing in front of people.”

Sonny smiled again. “Well, you  _ weren’t  _ singing in front of people.” 

“Smart,” Rafael huffed. “Moving on…,” he started pointedly despite Sonny’s big grin at him. “Any new anecdotes on the 99th?”

“Oh, man,” he snorted, shaking his head in fond disapproval. “You won’t  _ believe _ what Jake and Gina got up to this week.”

Being at SVU, Rafael had never had the pleasure - if he’d really call it that - to meet Sonny’s colleagues, but the Detective always had a story or other to tell. While working with Special Victims could be draining to the point of alienation, Sonny always grounded him back on Earth with his stories.

He liked to brush it off as if it was always the other Detectives who go up to the craziest schemes, but Rafael couldn’t help but pinpoint Sonny’s involvement in each and almost every single one of them.

Sonny spoke of his job with a lightness Rafael couldn’t relate to, but which he rejoiced all the same, and lived through the other man’s retellings. During those moments, it felt like they couldn’t be touched by darkness; not while Sonny was beaming so openly.

After dinner was done, they moved from the small dining table to the couch, sitting side by side, each with a glass of wine in hand and the tray of brownies set invitingly on the coffee table. Rafael didn’t even hesitate and immediately grabbed one, much for Sonny’s amusement.

“I should go back before Trixie chews through my couch,” Sonny said, taking his last sip of wine and setting the glass next to the brownies. 

“Ah,” Rafael felt his stomach plummet. “Let me walk you out, then.” 

“I had a really great time,” Sonny said. 

“Me, too,” Rafael smiled, following him to the door. 

Rafael quickly noticed that Sonny was hesitating, his steps too slow for his long legs. His smile was set in a tight line across his lips as kept looking over his shoulder at Rafael. He stopped at the door and turned, hands fidgety.

“I--,” he started, paused and swallowed. “This was a date, right?”

Rafael exhaled. “I would like to think so.”

He stepped closer, tentative. “Can I--?”

“Yes.” 

Sonny reached over, big hands on Rafael’s hips, and crowded him. Rafael curled a hand around his neck and pulled him down until their lips met. Sonny’s lips were as soft as they looked, full and tender. 

The kiss started so sweet and calm that, a couple minutes later, when Rafael found himself pressed against the door with Sonny’s tongue deep in his mouth, he felt dizzy, his legs weak under him unable to hold him up. It was Sonny who sustained him, an arm wrapped tightly around his waist and chests pressed firmly together; Rafael suspected he must feel his heart about to beat through his ribs.

Sonny tasted like wine and a sugary hint from the one brownie he’d had, and Rafael hummed, pleased, savoring how Sonny coaxed his own tongue into an intimate move.

Rafael buried a hand in Sonny’s hair, caressing his scalp with the tips of his fingers, and Sonny  _ melted _ into him in a way that almost brought both of them to the floor. 

“I really do have to go back,” Sonny lamented against Rafael lips. “But why don’t you come with me? Trixie would be happy to see you.”

Rafael smirked, the hand still in Sonny’s hair tightening. He watched Sonny’s blonde eyelashes flutter momentarily, his pretty lips parting. Rafael took the opportunity to nip at the bottom one, sucking it into his mouth when Sonny gasped. 

“Trixie would be happy to see me, uh?,” he teased.

Sonny grunted. “And so would I,” he leaned impossibly closer, his cologne the only thing Rafael could smell, and whispered right into his ear. “Especially in my bed.”

“God,” Rafael trembled, eyes rolling up to the stark white ceiling as he begged any merciful deity to save him from the heart attack he was bound to have. “ _ Yes _ .”

* * *

Rafael looked up from his case file with a smile, bouncing his foot to the rhythm Sonny was playing. 

He was sat in Sonny’s couch, Trixie laying beside him with her head on his lap, sleeping. Sonny had perched himself on the arm of his armchair, guitar in hand, and started strumming as Rafael worked. 

This had become their routine, and nowadays Rafael found it weird to work in complete silence. Even when Sonny wasn’t playing, he could hear him going around the kitchen, or talking to Trixie when she deigned to give him attention instead of hanging around Rafael.

He got used to having company, to Sonny’s long fingers playing his favorite songs, and Trixie’s wet nose imploring for some pets on the head and scratches behind her ear. 

Rafael couldn’t even remember ever being annoyed by Sonny’s guitar playing.

“Sing for me?,” Sonny would ask every single time he managed to charm Rafael away from his work.

He hadn’t found the heart to deny him yet; not when Sonny cocked his head the way he did and smiled softly, dimples and all.

_ Damn _ those dimples.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't write barisi on dates, it never works right, I'M SORRY [distressed tears] but I hope you enjoyed this anyway!
> 
> I absolutely love Trixie the dog, so if you do too, give her a little kudo!! See you (hopefully) soon with the last bingo square!! MWAH


End file.
